


I've Got No Strings

by larry_hystereks



Series: Weird, Bizarre, and Twisted [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cock Rings, First Kiss, I have no idea this is Mariah's fault, M/M, Masturbation, sort of cock rings idk it's fucking string
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larry_hystereks/pseuds/larry_hystereks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles gets turned into a string and the only way that he can turn back into a human is for Derek to come with the string wrapped around his dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got No Strings

**Author's Note:**

> It's all Mariah's fault. 
> 
> Blame her.
> 
> @mariajaja: "sterek where stiles is turned into a string and Derek has to use him as a cockring and jack off so he can turn back human"

What the fuck.

No seriously.

_What the fuck._

“What.”

“You said that already.”

But seriously? “Scott- I- What- Just how- What?” Derek ended up at again.

“You heard Deaton. Please don’t make me repeat it.” Scott begged, his eyes going wide.

Derek couldn’t muster up a response. He couldn’t even form a concise thought other than what and how.

He remembers what Deaton said only five minutes ago but he has to be joking. He has to be. It’s impossible. It’s just plain ridiculous and it is so not fucking happening.

“No.” Derek says.

“No? You can’t say no!” Scott squeaks. 

“Yes I can. And I’m saying no, end of discussion.”

“He’ll never be human again!” Scott argues.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”

Scott frowns. “That was a lie. Of course you care. It’s Stiles.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I’m not doing it.”

Scott stares at Derek with his big brown eyes, slowly filling with tears. “Deaton said you’re the only one though.”

Derek swallows.

“You have to do it. You can say you don’t care about him all you want but I know you want to save him.” Scott says, his voice cracking slightly. “I’d do it if I could but Deaton said that it had to be you.”

“But why me?” Derek nearly whines.

“I don’t know, Deaton just said you had to do it. You heard him!”

Derek sighs. “Okay.”

Scott’s eyes go wide and he wipes them with his sleeve.

“Okay? Wait are you-”

“Give it to me before I change my mind.” He says sticking his hand out. He watches as Scott reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bright red string.

“It’s not an it.” Scott mutters.

Derek huffs. “I know it’s not an it it’s unfortunately a Stiles.” He takes the string in his hand and gently holds it. He stares at the red string and then looks up at Scott. “Listen it’s hard enough having to do this but I can’t do it with you standing here.”

Scott turns as red as the string. “Oh right, uh sorry. Call me when you’re done?” He offers.

Derek nods and watches as Scott leaves the vets office. He listens as the door closes and he sits on the metal table where most likely animals get inspected or treated. Derek sighs, running the string along his fingers and shakes his head because why does this shit always have to happen to him?

His heart nearly stopped in his chest when Deaton said the words earlier.

_“You’re going to have to wrap the string around-” he had paused. “Yourself. And give yourself-” he paused again frowning. “An orgasm.”_

_Derek had no idea what the hell Deaton was even talking about but Scott had asked before he got the chance to._

_“So Derek has to wrap string Stiles around his dick and jerk off?” Scott said in not only disgust but a bit of horror. “What the hell?!?”_

Derek had remained mostly silent until Deaton left because he didn’t really know what to say or do. He was mostly just wondering how Stiles always seemed to get himself in these situations.

Stupid fucking witches. And stupid Stiles’ big fucking mouth. His stupid mouth that taunted the stupid witch who cursed him. And turned him into a string. A string that Derek had to wrap around his dick.

Derek closed his eyes, shook his head because of his life, and unbuttoned his pants. He wasn’t even hard, all he could think about was how he didn’t want to do this.

But he had to. Or else he’d never see Stiles again.

He placed the string down on the table and started touching his own dick, fondling his balls, running his fingers along his shaft. He started getting hard but he knew it wasn’t enough and wasn’t going to be enough for him to come. So he continued to play with his dick but started thinking about _him_.

He pictured his hand on his cock. His perfect mouth around him, taking as much as he could. He pictures him on his knees, his eyes staring up at him and he rolls his tongue around his cock. He pictures himself tugging onto his hair as he does so.

He’s fully hard now so he takes the string and ties it neatly around his dick, right under the tip of his penis, the red flashing brightly against his skin. He tries not to think too much about what he’s doing and reminds himself this is for Stiles, that he’s doing this for Stiles.

His hand wraps around his cock again and he strokes himself, each time feeling the bit of yarn in between his hand and his cock. He finds himself enjoying the sensation.

He needs more than that to come so he thinks of Stiles again, he just needs to come and he hates himself for doing this, but he thinks of him anyway. He thinks of Stiles’ bright pink lips wrapped around him, sucking him.

He thinks about bending Stiles over and fucking him on Deaton’s table where he sits. How Stiles’ pale skin would contrast to the metallic surface. He pictures Stiles begging for it, how tight he’d be. He thinks of Stiles fucking him.

And then he’s coming and there’s smoke there’s smoke everywhere and Derek can’t breathe because it’s smoke and smoke means fire and fire means death. And he feels like an idiot with his dick out and covered in come but he puts his head in his hands and tries to focus on breathing but he can’t because there’s still smoke and he’s suffocating. He’s suffocating like his family did. He can’t breathe.

He hears something but it doesn’t make sense in his head. Everything’s foggy and one thought won’t connect to the next. He feels pressure on his shoulders, feels something at his ear. He tries to listen, to focus, but everything’s too muggy.

He instead focuses on his own breathing, starts counting his breaths until the pressure on his shoulders becomes more tangible and the sound becomes clearer.

“Ssh, Derek, it’s alright, you’re fine.”

It’s Stiles. Of course it’s him.

And then Derek remembers the string and the fact that his dick is still out.

Derek peaks his eyes through his hands, there’s no more smoke. He tells himself there’s no more smoke which means there’s no more fire, even if there was never any fire before he still needs to tell himself this.

Derek removes his hands and stares up at Stiles. Stiles who is looking at him with concern, who has both hands resting on his shoulders, his thumbs moving in soothing circles.

“Derek?”

“I’m fine.” He says. “I should be asking you how you’re doing.”

Stiles shrugs. “I have no idea. I don’t remember anything.” He says. “The last thing I do remember is standing in the middle of the woods with that witch and bolt of lightning coming my way.”

“Oh.” Derek replies.

“Yeah, so uh…” Stiles trails off. “Why is your dick out.” He finishes. “Not that I was looking! Like at all!”

Derek’s face heats up. “You don’t want to know.” He says, quickly tucking himself away. Stiles drops his hands from Derek’s shoulders and Derek tries to tell himself that he doesn’t miss it.

“I think I do.”

“Stiles seriously. Not today.”

Stiles considers this before nodding. “Alright. You get a week okay?”

Derek sighs in relief. “Okay, a week.”

And then a week rolls by and Stiles is at Derek’s loft telling him his time is up. Derek wished that Scott would’ve told Stiles because Derek doesn’t think he can. How do you tell the person you want to not only fuck but hold hands with, that when they were turned into a string by a deranged witch he had to wrap said string around his own dick to bring him back to the world of the living with the power of his cock.

So Derek tries to tell him, as lightly and as simply as possible and Stiles just stares. And stares. And then stares some more with his stupidly perfect mouth fallen into an ‘O’.

“Say something?” Derek finally asks after an uncomfortable amount of staring.

Stiles shakes his head as if he was awoken from some sort of daze. “Seriously?” He asks.

Derek nods.

“Dammit Derek.” Stiles mutters. “I’m sorry.”

Wait. What?

“What?” Derek says, scrunching up his brows.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. “That was- you shouldn’t have had to do that. Especially for me.”

“What do you mean especially for you?” Derek asks.

Stiles stares at the ground and then back at him. “I know you don’t like me that much and you did something really personal and jesus Derek, no one should have to do that sort of thing for anyone and you did it for me of all people.”

“You think I don’t like you?” Derek finds himself asking.

Stiles frowns. “No?”

Derek grunts. Sighs. Then places his hands gently on Stiles’ face and kisses him so lightly that Stiles barely feels Derek’s lips at all.

“You kissed me.” Stiles whispers, there faces close.

“Yeah.” Derek can’t think of anything else to really say. He looks into Stiles eyes and he finds confusion but also happiness. Stiles leans forward and presses their lips together, this time a bit harder than the last, but still just as gentle.

When they pull away Derek smiles, and wonders how the hell this all started with a string.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a song featured in Pinocchio. 
> 
> If you have any weird/bizarre/twisted fics you want tweet me at @hystereks


End file.
